


The Art of Critiquing

by wolfoftheafterlife



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Art, First Meetings, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Skinny!Steve, art gallary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:45:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfoftheafterlife/pseuds/wolfoftheafterlife
Summary: Bucky goes to an art museum and ends up criticizing the artist's work.





	

Bucky was already getting uncomfortable. He was in a room with a bunch of strangers and he just wanted to go home. But he couldn’t, he agreed to go to this art exhibit with his friend, who was looking into something for her company. He couldn’t ask her to leave before he gave her time to do her job, especially since he knew they would leave the second he mentioned he was uncomfortable. He didn’t like being a burden on his friends, but ever since he came back to the US with an arm short, Natasha had been there to make sure he was adjusting.  
Bucky sighed and began to wander around the building. There were sculptures, paintings, photographs, you name it, they had it. He stopped at a black and white picture of a dog. There was nothing particularly exciting about the picture, just a puppy, perhaps a golden retriever, smiling up at the camera. He could see the cracks in the tiles of the floor, a half full dog dish in the background. He was starting to wonder why this photo was in the exhibit when he realised, it wasn’t a photo; it was a sketch. It was hard to tell unless you were studying it closely.  
The next piece was a painting. It looked like a photo taken in the forties. The colours were faded and looked pale. There was a man in the middle, who seemed to be brighter than everything else in the picture. He was being followed by a group of soldiers. They all looked scruffy, though merry and alive. Even the ones who needed help walking looked pleased. The man in the front wasn’t wearing a typical military uniform, he was wearing a red, white, and blue suit with a star on the chest. Bucky couldn’t help but feel like that man must be important, the reason everyone else was so lively.  
He went to the next piece and stared at it for a while. He didn’t like it as much as the other pieces. It made him feel sad. It looked like the soldier from before, who seemed so strong and brave in the last picture, crouching in a cemetery. The man is in front of graves, decorated with flags. He looked worn out and like he’s been crying. Instead of the costume from the previous painting, he was wearing a shirt and khakis. This photo felt really gloomy to Bucky.  
“You like them?” A deep voice asked, causing him to jump.  
“Mostly, yeah,” he responded.  
“Mostly?”  
He turned to look at the man who was talking to him. He was smaller than Bucky had expected from his voice. He had light blue eyes and hair the colour of the sun. “The last picture is so much different than the other ones the artist did. This one just feels sad. In the previous one, he looked undefeatable.”  
“Well, even the strongest people get down sometimes.”  
“Don’t I know it,” Bucky says under his breath. “I just think the artist could have at least made it someone different than the soldier from before.”  
“Maybe he was trying to prove something. Just because people look up to you as a hero, doesn’t mean you’re invincible to loss.”  
“So do you do this a lot? Come to art shows, I mean.”  
“Yeah, it’s sort of my job. You?”  
“I just go with my friend. She comes to these things a lot for work. She works at Stark Towers and Stark surprisingly likes art. What’s your job exactly?”  
“I’m an artist.”  
“Wow, really? That’s awesome. What’s your best work?”  
“According to who?”  
Bucky thought about it. “You, I guess.”  
The other man got a glint in his eye before pointing to the painting Bucky had just been critiquing. “That’s one of my favourites. I painted it when I was in a really tough spot.”  
Bucky saw where the man was pointing, his eyes widened. “I am so sorry, man.”  
“No problem. It’s good to hear other people’s opinions of my work. I’m Steve by the way,” he said, sticking out his hand.  
“Bucky.” When Steve raised an eyebrow at that he responded, “Childhood nickname. My middle name’s Buchanan.”  
Before either of the could say any more, Natasha showed up. “I see you two have met.”  
“Yeah, Bucky here was just giving me tips about my art.”  
“Oh yeah?” she said, raising a perfect eyebrow.  
“I may have not known he was the artist,” Bucky defended.  
“This I’ve got to hear, but right now, we’ve got to go.”  
“Okay. It was nice meeting you, Steve.”  
“You too, Bucky. Maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”  
God, did Bucky hope he was right.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if this isn't that great. Please enjoy anyways.


End file.
